


Manners

by Glamgrowl



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Sansa has a soundproof basement, Sansa is a closet metal head
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:42:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29940519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glamgrowl/pseuds/Glamgrowl
Summary: Sansa Stark is the uptight principal at Wintertown high, who yearns to let her freak flag fly openly.Sandor Clegane is the guidance counselor, who riles her up, and She’d really like to teach him some Manners.
Relationships: Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark
Comments: 34
Kudos: 82





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys. I’m new to writing fiction. Please go easy on Me, but I’d love to hear your thoughts. I know the formatting is a bit wonky. I haven’t done this before, and I was nervous as hell to post, which made me impulsive, and instead of turning on my damn computer to proofread/edit, I tried doing it on my phone, before my morning caffeine. Rip the bandaid off, ya know. I hope you enjoy the premise. I have a few more chapters written, I’ll probably post another one this week, after I fix this mess.

When looking at Sansa Stark there are many words that come to mind. Beautiful is the most obvious, with her long wavy auburn locks, her alabaster skin, and curves in all the right places, it would be dishonest to deny the fact that she was beautiful. Proper, Polite, Poised, and Perfect, come to mind while spending anytime with her. She was raised in wealth, which came with learning the art of etiquette. It was drilled into her in her youth, and was well practiced at events as she grew up. It comes in handy now at 32 years old, while speaking to Parents and the Children being Principal at Wintertown High. Some would call her a prude or frigid, especially the few Men she had tried to date in her recent years. Instead of Beer on a date, she would opt for water, she has been known to smack someones hands if they had wandered where she didnt want them to be. Her dates would normally end in a handshake, and her at home no later than 9pm, where she would relax on her couch petting her husky Lady.  


Sandor Clegane would call her uptight. He would say she needs to loosen up, then he would laugh as she huffed about his admonishment, with his big booming voice, and his lopsided grin, and those gray eyes that sparkled when he got her riled up.  


If you asked Sansa Stark what she thought about the schools guidance counselor, she would point out that he was "blunt, uncouth, rude, and needed to work on his manners" but then she would sigh and point out that the kids loved him, especially the troubled kids, who teachers didnt know what to do with. Sandor Clegane would find a place for them, and make them feel like they belonged. Those kids he took a special interest in, went from a low GPA to a high one in a matter of semester, they started extracurriculur activities, and did well at them, and they found a place socially.   


Wintertown rarely had loners since thrae day she hired Sandor Clegane, and as much as he riled her up, and got under her skin, she was so thankful for him, and his methods, and the magic he worked for the kids who were normally unheard.  


Sansa began her journey in the education system, because of her love of an unheard kid. Had you asked the teachers about her brother Rickon, how to describe him, they would start by saying he was a trouble-maker. He was a class clown, he skipped school, he smoked weed under the bleachers, and would get into fights. What they fail to mention is Rickon was going through alot in those days. The loss of his Mom, Dad, and Eldest brother in a tragic car accident effected him greatly. The fact that his 19 year old sister had to adjust to online college, while caring for her younger siblings, effected him greatly. The fact that he had ADHD and remained undiagnosed until he was into adulthood, effected him the most. So yes, he did alll of those thimgs, but had someone cared enough in the education system, he could have been a better student. Now Rickon Stark is a very well known filmmaker, and is very vocal about how the education failed him as a student, but how his Sister Sansa is to blame for his success. She never gave up on him, and that was the driving force for her to work in the education system. So nobody got left behind like little Rickon Stark.  


Our story begins at the end of a journey for the class of 2020 at Wintertown High. Rickon Stark stands on stage, and tells the story of his struggles, and his success. RIckon stark with his messy hair, covered in tattoos, looks over at his perfectly polished sister, and tells the crowd of students that if it weren't for their Principal, the world wouldnt have the movies he makes, like KingSlayer, Bran the Broken, and Winter Roses. The crowd is moved by his words, and motivated to go out into the world and make a name for themselves, but all Sansa Stark wants to do is get off this stage, and find a closet to cry in. She holds it together until the caps fly into the air, and she gracefully makes her exit behind the stage. 

Her heels tap as she finds the broom closet which she reserves for occasions like this, where she hides from the world her true self. The one moved to tears. After 5 minutes of silent sobbing, she wipes her tears, stands ups straight, and plans a quick exit to the nearest ladies room, where she can freshen up her makeup, and powder her nose. Our story begins with her exiting quickly into a brick house of a man, and hearing him say "What were you doing in the closet little bird?"

"Oh, My apologies Mr Clegane, I didn't intend to run into you, I'm just in a bit of a hurry." She quips, not looking up, and trying her best to get by, while he blocks her. The big oaf does this sometimes in a playful manner, always trying to rile her up, but She is terrified anyone will see her with her makeup in a mess, and her eyes all puffy, so she does her best to get around him without having to raise her voice. "Mr clegane." she whispers in a seething tone, "Could you move aside immediately, I need to use the ladies room!" Sandor moves aside and looks at her in confusion with a little bit of pity, and say's "I’m Sorry Little Bird" 

She hurries off to the bathroom, fixes her makeup, stands up straight, and walks out to be greeted again by Sandor Clegane leaning against the wall. His gray eyes light up as he grins mischievously.  
“Sansa, a bunch of the staff is going to Lady Mormonts tonight.”  
Sansa used to get invited by the staff to social outings like this. She went once or twice, but never seemed to get the invite anymore.   
Surprised by receiving one she said ,  
"Im not really much of a drinker, Mr Clegane.”  
"You don't have to drink to come, just come out, eat some food, let your hair down Sansa...” he said with a mischievous grin, implying that she was uptight again.   
Annoyed by being pressured into a spontaneous social event, but flattered for being thought of she puts her arms across her chest and asks "Do they have onion rings?"  
"If that’s what it takes to get you to come, I’ll go into the kitchens and cook them myself...”Sandor says with a smirk  
Suppressing a grin she stands up straight and says "I suppose I could arrange to stop in for some onion rings this evening, what time will this be taking place?"  
"I’ll be getting there at 7.” He says   
"Alright Mr Clegane, I will stop in. Thank you for the invitation" She says as she turns to walk away  
"See you tonight little bird, loosen up!" He calls loudly as she floats away to find her brother, and go home.

As she drives home, listening to the music, that no one in the world would know that she enjoys, because she listens to it alone, quietly, on back roads, where there is no such thing as traffic. She listens to it, only on headphones while shes in her basement, because even though her neighbors are not very close, what would they say, if they knew the principal of wintertown high was a fan of death metal? She has trained herself to only headbang to it inwardly in the car, on the back roads, just in case, but it is so soothing. She yells swear words sometimes trying to perfectly match the pitch and sound of the vocalists playing...but mostly she fantasizes While she listens, she imagines herself screaming in the face of every single person who pissed her off that day, or in the past. She imagines kicking her ex Joffery Baratheon, in the face, while screaming powerfully. She imagines screaming in the face of the parents who taught their kids to bully. but most often She imagines herself clad in a leather bikiki teaching Sandor Clegane some fucking manners. 

She turns the music off, as the heat of her fantasy has creeped up her face into a blush, rolls the window down a mile before she makes it home.

She lets Lady out into her fenced in back yard, grabs her very well hidden pack of cigarettes, and a lighter, and goes out back with her. She hides behind a tree, and lights one up. Inhales it like air, living for the dirty taste, and the harsh fire the smoke brings to her throat. No one knows that she picked up this habit in college. She never did it socially. She did it out of curiosity after her parents died, and she had to take up the role of being a mother like figure. She craved the normal college experience. Not the one from the year prior where Joffery Baratheon wine dined and date raped her... but sexual exploration, trying new things, being curious. So she grabbed a pack of Dracarys lights from the next town over, and would find times throughout her busy days to sneak a couple. She was surprised that she had never been caught. 

Raising her 3 youngest siblings ranging from 13 to 17, amd having one older brother who would drop in and check in on them, anytime his schedule would allow. She had been smoking for 12 years, and not a single person knew about it. 

Sansa Stark has secrets, but she wasn’t mysterious and exotic like some. There were people you could look at and say “they have a secret” then you could find a way to coax it out of them, Sex, Alcohol, Frienrship, there was always a way to find the darkness in someone who looks mysterious from afar.

Sansa’s secrets were safe, because she didn’t exude mystery. Her life was the essence of, what you see is what you get, and what most people saw when they looked at Sansa Stark, was a Beautiful, uptight, stern woman. 

Sometimes she yearned for letting her freak flag fly. She even spent an entire month before going to a therapist, planning to lay out all the secret thoughts she had. All her secret habits. She chickened out the day of her session and they spent the hour talking about the things many people already knew everything about. Her families death, her raising the kids, finishing college, where her siblings were now. It wasn’t therapeutic in the least bit, she had already gotten through those struggles, she was fine. Her siblings were great. She never went back.

She lights another cigarette and watches Lady bark at a squirrel, she wonders what it could be like if she was one of those people you could coax the secrets out of. She thinks of how she could exeude mystery, maybe a leather jacket? Or some dark eyeliner? She wonders how it would feel if she could open up to someone about all these dirty things she hides, that she so loves and enjoys. What would they say if they opened the chest of drawers in front of her bed, and dug under the merch from metal concerts she keeps hidden but cherishes, where she stores the leather bikini she got a P.O. Box just to buy from a shop online, and a black whip, and other dirty, kinky things. She takes them out when she can, just to look at. Sometimes if she’s feeling dating she tries them on in the sound proofed room in the basement, and often times in those moments, she thinks about the guidance counselor, and how good it would feel to have complete control over the brute of a man. She thinks about kissing the scarred side of his face, or how his lips would feel dragged over her pierced nipples. She’d imagine tying him to her four poster bed, and tantalizing him, never giving in, until he said “Please” and “Thank You,” or until he begs for it politely. She would turn up her music, in her leather clad bikini, close her eyes, and imagine Sandor Clegane falling to his knees and begging for a taste of her, and she loved riling him up in these fantasies, acting like she would never give in. Yet she knew if this was a true story, it wouldn’t take her long to budge.

She snuffs out her third cigarette, and tells Lady to come in. She has to get ready for this spontaneous social event, the object of her lust has roped her into, and due to her heated daydream, she needs to pleasure herself in the shower before hand. 

She takes the cigarette pack and lighter to her jeep, she has a stash case that looks like a can of WD40. Most people use this for Marijuana, but she hasn’t touched weed since the last time Arya and Rickon stayed a week last year. Sansa seems uptight to the people she doesn’t know, but her family has seen her have fun. She doesn’t drink in public because of Joffery, but she enjoys a glass of bourbon on the rocks 2-3 imes a week. She will get completely shit faced with her siblings, maybe once a year, at home. They will dance and sing, and cry. Her siblings do know that she has a love for metal music. They understand. Their dad raised them on Dio and Iron Maiden, and now Rickon gets Sansa backstage passes to concerts in nearby towns. She has a T-shirt collection, and a lot of memories of standing side stage, watching brutal men and women screaming at the crowd, and her wishing she had that bravery. 

After her shower she feels satiated, but she’s unsure what to wear. Deep down she wants to open her chest of drawers and put on one of her various metal band T-shirt’s. A classic like Pantera, She wants to paint her lips dark red, paired with a smoky eye and leather boots. She wonders what the staff would think if she walked into the bar, surrounded by the smoke of the cigarette she just threw out. What would Sandor think if she walked up to the bar and ordered a bourbon. Maybe she’d sing karaoke. 

Instead she opted for an a-line dress, with sunflower print. She normally donned a tight bun at school, but tonight, she opted to let her hair down. She didn’t do a Smokey eye, but she wore a sheer red lip color. She hopped in her car and hit the road.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's learn a bit more about the guidance counselor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the Kudo's and the couple of comments on the last chapter. It made my day.  
> I made a playlist on Spotify for Sansa's Secret Jam's. Not sure if this link works, but I'll try it!  
> The most fiction I have written is in a songwriting concept album format, so bare with me when it comes to posting the next dialogue-heavy chapters.  
> Thanks for all the love!  
> I will leave the spotify list in the comments.

There are 3 words someone could easily describe Sandor Clegane. Big, Ugly, and Blunt. He used to be a mean fucker, but that life is behind him now. He stands at 6ft 5. His body is large and built, and he is damn proud of it. After his brother pushed his face into the fire, and turned him into a monster, his body continued to grow. He was stocky, and tall, but soft. His peers saw him as an ugly freak, he was a loner, bad grades, bad attitude, leading down a bad path. His guidance counselor Ray took him in, got him to channel all the angst and anger into weight lifting, wrestling, wood shop, and psychology classes. He was built like the warrior incarnate, and it took a lot of work as a youth, but it molded him into what he is today.

Everyday after school he goes into the gym for a hour or longer and does his weight training, he then runs the 2 miles it takes him to get home, often listening to his thrash metal playlist.  
He lets out his dog stranger into the backyard, watching the big English mastiff zoom around, while he enjoys a cigarette and a bourbon on the back porch, while thinking about his day.

He used to be an angry young man, a victim of a bad childhood, scarred for life, bullied at home and at school. He still gets angry, but he isn’t mad at the world anymore, especially since finding his purpose.   
After high school he joined the military. His counselor may have helped raise his GPA, and find his purpose, but not enough for scholarships, and since he was in the foster care system since he was 12, he figured a couple of years in the military, means he could go to college for free after.  
He didn’t expect to end his 2 year military stint with PTSD, the carnage, and the anger that came with it. He didn’t think it would turn into a year of a bad drinking problem, and a couple of nights in the drunk tank.

Ray and him wrote each other while he was stationed in Iraq, and then fell out of touch after he came home and spent most his time drunk and angry.  
One night Ray showed up to his apartment, he was pissed drunk, and angry as usual.  
The next day Ray worked his magic, and Sandor opened up about the carnage he saw during war. The people he lost, the anger and darkness.

Years of weekly appointments, while he took advantage of his free college, while working any off job where he could use his hands doing manual labor, keeping him busy, transforming his anger, into something productive. He found his purpose, he wanted to help kids like ray helped him.

Now at 36 years old, he was doing it. After the military, and slowly and patiently having to work his way through college, he had graduated with his masters at 32. It took 2 years of being an online therapist, full time, while looking for employment in the education system. He was hired by Sansa Stark the Principal of Wintertown High 2 years ago, and he’s felt fulfilled ever since. Giving back to those kids, what Ray had given to him in his youth and as an adult. 

Sansa Stark is on his mind a lot, his perfect stern boss, who hired him despite the fact that his interview skills were shit. He had ranted about the problems with the education system during it, which meant he got loud, angry, blunt, and definitely said fuck, multiple times throughout the interview. Perfect Sansa Stark listened with her back straight as an arrow, nodded as she wrote notes, flinched at every swear word he slipped out, and with a tight lipped hand shake, she reached out her hands and said “You’re hired.” He hadn’t expected that. 

Sansa and the tight auburn bun on the back of her head, three piece blazer suits in a neutral color, who stormed into his office last week and said “Mr Clegane, did you teach Meera and Gilly the term “Open up a can of whoop ass?!”  
She opened up a can of one on him, as he smirked while she seethed and lit into him about teaching kids manners instead of curse words. 

He loved her anger, it felt more real than any interaction he had seen her have in the two years he’d worked there. She always chirped polite niceties or stern discipline, to the students, and the staff, but no one seemed to make her anger spark the way he could. She’d always throw her arms in the air, and furrow her brow, her quiet voice would get louder as she told him he needed to learn some manners. He should really feel bad for going out of his way to get under her skin, but her angry outburst showed, that under this seemingly perfect and poised women, was an authentic fiery nature, and ruffling her feathers was the best part of his day. He’d even taken to call her Little Bird, which annoyed her even further.

He didn’t think she’d actually come when he asked her out to Lady Mornonts. Lots of the staff hang out, after school. He asked the history teacher Bronn why the principal never came, and Bronn told him that she had a couple of times, but she was a party pooper, so they all stopped inviting her. That pissed Sandor off.

Sandors life mission was to bring kids out of their shell, and help them find their purpose, and with purpose came extracurricular activities, and with that came friendship. He doesn’t like seeing loners, kids having to eat alone, or ostracized because of the way they are, so he asked Sansa with that in mind, that even if she declines, the invite was offered, and sometimes it’s nice to feel a hand reaching out. 

She surprised him by saying she would be there, even though she said it in an exasperated tone. He was prepared for the “No thank you, Mr Clegane” and the excuses she would chirp, and he was going to give her his number, and say, “Let’s do something this summer when you aren’t busy, whatever you want to do.” He had his hand in his pocket, gripping the folded piece of paper that said “Give me a call if you need to loosen up” with his number underneath, knowing full well She’d get angry for pointing out that she was uptight, but Sandor was a sucker for ruffling that little birds feathers, he dreamt someday she would eat out of his hands

Sandor showered the sweat off from his workout and run. The small glass of bourbon and the taste of cigarettes was washed away with his wintergreen toothpaste. He examined his face in the foggy mirror, while he combed out his damp black hair. He didn’t look so scary with his beard, even though it didn’t grow where the scar tissue started. He threw on a black T-shirt, black jeans, grabbed his wallet, and headed out to his Truck. He rolled the windows down and checked beside him for his favorite Gwar hoodie. It wasn’t quite summer, and the nights got chilly in Wintertown.   
He put it in drive and headed out of town, to the next town over, where Lady Mormonts Pub was.

It was kind of a dive, but it was a good spot for the staff to let loose without running into former students who would likely be at the club, or parents, who would be at a pub in Wintertown.   
It was a Saturday, the day of graduation, Lady M’s had Karaoke on Saturday, and live music on Fridays, rarely any bands that Sandor liked, mostly ones who stuck to covers that made the cougars want to dance. Sandor loved live music, he would often go to metal shows out of town, he used to be found in the mosh pit, using his anger and strength to his advantage, but in his later years he realized that it was a dick move and he had an advantage over the average Joe. So he would head to the front on the side, making sure he wasn’t blocking the view of any shorter Ladies, and he would watch his favorite bands from there.

On his drive he wondered what Sansa Stark was listening to. Or if she would even come. She probably listens to strictly classical music, probably knows facts about the pieces she listens to, that she can repeat to the hoity-toity friends she has, while they drink chardonnay on her friends husbands yacht. Hell she probably played the cello in college. He giggles thinking about Sansa Stark at a metal concert, her eyes all big and surprised at the imagery and sounds and smells. He full on laughs thinking about what Sansa Stark would think of the women in the crowd wearing fishnets with nothing under them, the angry blush that would creep up her neck into her cheeks. Her smacking him on his hand and saying “How dare you take me to a place like this, Mr Clegane!”   
He gets an idea to play some Cannibal Corpse on the jukebox, hoping she understands the rude words as she eats her onion rings. The steam that will roll off her cheeks from the embarrassment.   
He probably shouldn’t pick on her tonight. He should be a kind gentleman, and make her feel welcome, he can still do all that, but just this one thing. One song. Just to see that anger, and he will apologize.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa heads to the bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos and comments everyone. I am so glad you like it so far!!! Like I’ve said before I am new to fiction, but I have lots of ideas. I have adhd, and after talking with a friend who is a writer, because I totally messed up the timeline of this story, she suggested I make an outline.  
> So here is to hoping this outline thing works. Enjoy!

Sansa takes the back way to town, while she smokes her cigarettes, and listens to Lamb of God. She rolls her windows up, but the A/C is blowing her hair, which she is glad she decided to wear down. Her neck and shoulders feel more relaxed, as her hair flows free, while she screams “FUCK!” Really loud, in a wooded area she knows no houses are near. 

She has mapped this route out. It’s the same she takes to grab her 4 cartons of cigarettes, once a month. On those occasions she wears sunglasses, and a band T-shirt, and a hat. As if she’s hiding from the paparazzi, instead of the parents who would tsk about the fact the leader of their child’s school is grabbing cigarettes. 

She wonders if the bar had her favorite kind of bourbon. What the staff would say if she grabbed two and sucked them down one by one. How good it would feel to slouch in her chair, and allow herself to laugh when Sandor Clegane does something funny, instead of the tight lipped smile, she keeps in his presence. Unless he’s pissing her off in purpose, she lets her vulnerability slip, every time he calls her Little Bird for some stupid reason, her well manicured hands fly up into the air, and she gives him a piece of her mind, and she does it for that lopsided grin he gives her, and that big booming laugh, and the mischievous gray eyes, who seem to see what no one else does. 

Rickon and Arya are in town. Maybe tonight she could let loose, just a little. Maybe a bourbon to go with her onion rings?

She calls Arya knowing that tonight Gendry, Rickon Shireen, and Her are playing cards against humanity. She asks if anyone is staying sober, and Arya informs her Shireen isn’t feeling like drinking tonight. She passes the phone to sweet Shireen, and Sansa asks her Sister in law, if she can keep her phone nearby. That she hasn’t decided to drink, but just in case she does, she would need a ride. Arya grabs the phone and wants to know all the details, where she will be, with who... She informs her it’s a school thing, and that she’s being nosy. Shireen said she would do it though, so Sansa makes her mind up. She will have a bourbon tonight.

She parks the car, spits out her gum, powders her nose and touches up her lipstick. Sprays herself with Chanel perfume, and waits. It’s 6:45, she’s early as usual. 

She’s nervous, talking herself out of going in. Her mind is full of maybes. Maybe I should text one of them and let them know I have a stomach ache? Maybe I should grab the hair tie and pull my hair up into my usual bun? Maybe I should just leave and pretend like I forgot? Maybe...Maybe I should throw on a wig, and a leather coat. Wear dark glasses and sit in a dark corner. Observe my staff while they are carefree and having fun. Watch them awhile, learn how to mimic it. Would they spot me? Shaking her head feeling like a weirdo, she spots a dark figure on the side of the building zipping up a hoodie. 

She watches him as he takes a hit of a cigarette. Her throat burns in envy. She wishes she could join her hulking guidance counselor. She wishes she could walk up and ask to bum one. She wonders what it would be like to laugh openly at one of his many jokes. He always picks on her, and a part of her understands why. He’s not a bully. He’s far from it. When she isn’t admonishing him for his uncouth methods, he is one of the easiest people to talk to. She could listen to his deep gravelly voice, rant and growl about education, shitty parents, and bully’s. She smiles imaging him growling along to one of the metal songs she’s so fond of. He’d be a natural. She understands why he picks on her, She is uptight. She’s a prude, a square. Lots of the staff just ignores her socially, but Sandor Clegane drives her wild, and it’s never in a malicious way. He just knows how to press her buttons, and he finds that fun, and she kind of likes it too.

She likes throwing her hands up, and telling him he’s rude. She likes getting angry at him, because at those times, her mask drops a little, and she feels more like her real self. The one who smokes cigarettes and listens to metal, the one who practices metal screams in her sound proof basement while watching YouTube videos on how to do it properly. The one who wears leather, and a whip, and fantasizes about tying Sandor Clegane to that chair in the corner, then pleasures herself to the thought. 

She’s been watching him smoke a whole cigarette, and notices he sees her. blushing profusely to the thought of being caught in her fantasies, she shakes her head and checks her face in the mirror. She grabs her handbag and locks the door and heads towards him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandors POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might as well post 2 chapters at the same time. I’m impulsive, and your comments are fueling me to get this out quickly! Thanks for reading!

He made sure to arrive early, because Sansa Stark was prompt, and he didn’t want her to feel weird showing up with the staff who didn’t offer the invite. As he found his table, his phone dinged. It was a group message from the staff that liked to party, who were supposed to be here tonight. 

Bronn B-"Change of Plans, Dany and the Dragonz will be at Seaworths tonight."

Margery Tyrell- "Oh Yay! I have my Dancing shoes on!"

Jamie Lannister- "Damn! I was going to do Bon jovi for Karaoke tonight, but I'll save that for next time"

Sandor typed exassparated  
"Im already fucking here, and I invited Sansa, does anyone have her number?"

Marge- "No! dont bring her, shes such a party pooper, It's hard to have fun with her judging sober eyes on us"

Bronn- "Im with Marge on this, its hard to let loose with a stick in the mud, just come here, she’ll get the hint"

He lets out a frustrated growl as he types back to the group chat- "Im not gonna do that. You’re a bunch of cunts for even suggesting it. I'll just stay, Dany and her fucking dragons play too many 80's pop songs for my taste anyways"

Marge- "Sansa wont be out long, meet us when youre done, why did you even invite her Sandy?"

He threw his phone back in his pocket and walked up to the bar and took a seat.  
Hopefully Sansa isn't freaked out it's just him, the bartender grabs him a glass of bourbon on the rocks and 2 menus.

He should be more pissed about the turn of events. he has been going out with Bronn, Marge, Jamie, and his Wife Brienne since he started at Wintertown high, and he had never heard them gossip or talk so ill about anyone on the staff before, except the one time Bronn called Sansa a party-popper. It left him with a sour taste in his mouth.

Fuck those guys for telling him to just leave. He imagines what Sansa would do if she came in to an almost empty bar, would she still grab onion rings and wait around assuming the staff and him were just late? Would she be dissapointed or excited that she didnt have to fulfill this social obligation she seemed so annoyed about? He would never know, becase Sandor was a man with integrity, and he wasn’t going to ghost someone, especially his fucking boss, to watch a fucking 80's cover band with the people he spent every Friday with.

He checked his watch 6:45, he had time to smoke a cigarette before Sansa arrived. He let the barkeep know he would be right back, and told him to throw in an order of onion rings, and headed outside to smoke. 

He spots her in her Land Rover and she’s watching him smoke. She’s likely irritated that her company will reek of Marlboro’s. She gets out of her car and he snuffs out his smoke, and waves away the cloud that engulfs him.

“Glad you could make it out Little Bird”

She’s waving her hands and coughing with a look of disgust. “I told you I’d come Mr Clegane.”

He opens the bar door and ushers her in. "Can you call me Sandor tonight? We’re not working."

She sweeps through the door, and stops to wait for him to come through "Sure, I’ll try my best." 

The bar is nearly empty. There are a couple people playing pool. No one from the staff but him. It pisses him off, and he hopes he doesn’t see disappointment on her face, after he informs her that everyone got busy, so it’s just them.

She seems relieved. Which makes him even more angry. She obviously has spent years feeling unwelcome by the other teachers, enough to feel relieved when she’s forced to hang out with just him, the guidance counselor whose life mission, other than helping those kids, is to ruffle her feathers. He feels like such an asshole in that moment as he leads her to where he’s been seated at the bar. He’s not going to play that damn song tonight. He’s not gonna play pop or fuckin 80’s music, but the least he can do is make it comfortable for the little Bird who sticks out like a sore thumb, perched atop the barstool in the greasy dive bar, whose flagging down the bar keep, and asking what kind of bourbon they have.

“Bourbon? I thought you didn’t drink?”

She orders a Koval on the rocks, and he tells the bartender to make it two.

“I don’t normally drink in public. It seems pretty safe in here this evening though.” As she motions to the empty bar.

“Yeah it’s pretty dead in here. I’m sorry about that. The others wanted to go watch this 80’s pop cover band called Dany and the Dinosaurs or something stupid”

She scrunches up her nose. “That sounds awful. I hate 80’s pop.”

He smirks. “Me too.”

They sit in an awkward silence until the kitchen brings out the onion rings. “These are for you.”

“Oh! Thanks. We can share if you like?”

“Sure. I’ll be right back.” 

Grabbing some cash from his wallet he heads for the jukebox. He didn’t realize how awkward it would be sitting at the bar with Sansa Stark. Especially when he is trying to not annoy her. He picks out a half a dozen songs and Led Zepplins Immigrant Song starts playing.

He walks back to the bar and watches Sansa tapping her foot to the music. 

“Do you like this song Little Bird?”

She blushes, her pretty mouth full of food. Takes a sip of bourbon to wash it down. “Of course I do. It’s a classic.”

A classic huh? He’s surprised Sansa has stored a Led Zeppelin tune into her brains filing cabinet as a classic. She’s not wrong, but he figured her classics would be Bach or something you’d hear at an opera house, and not a rock band. 

The silence is less awkward now, due to the jukebox playing a song they both enjoy. The last note plays, and He’s thinking really hard about what to talk about. He sucks at small talk. He could talk about traumas from war with a guy in line for the pisser, but making small talk with Sansa was not coming easily. He needs to breakthrough that barrier though and try and get her to open up. 

Iron Maiden plays next. Hollowed be thy name. Another classic in his book. He’s chewing on an onion ring as he hears it. Sansa fucking Stark humming Iron Maiden. This can’t be real. He peeks at her and notices her hands drumming to the beat, and She’s quietly singing along to the words and humming the guitar parts. She’s singing an octave higher, sitting up straight, her hair is flowing down her back in beautiful waves. She looks really good in yellow. She always sticks to neutral colors, but the yellow dress, with the red lipstick suits her. It makes her auburn hair even more vibrant. She could easily pull off a 1950’s pinup girl look. He imagines her posing with Bettie Page bangs in front of a red car. She’s always been beautiful, but that image of her is so fucking hot. He coughs trying to shake out the fantasy. 

She’s still humming away to maiden, like a hot little Bird. He wants to comment on it, but he doesn’t want to embarrass her, or make her mad. So he just sits and listens to her sing. The song ends and he asks for another bourbon. She says she’d like another too. Someone else played some modern country song, and he’d rather eat glass than listen to it. He blurts out the first thing that pops into his head. 

“That was a hell of a speech your Brother gave today.” 

She smiles. “Yeah, I think the kids enjoyed it.”

“I’m sorry about your family, but I think you did a hell of a job raising Rickon.“

She tightens up immediately. “Yeah, he’s a good kid. Please excuse Me while I head to the bathroom.”

Shit. See. I suck at small talk. Here let me bring up your dead family, and all your struggles. Fuck I’m an asshole. She’s supposed to be loosening up, and I just made her shut down, like she did after that speech. Fuck I’m stupid. He downs his drink as he watches her walk quickly to the bathroom, and asks for another, feeling like a fucking idiot.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa needs a pep talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone.   
> I just want to thank you all for reading so far.  
> I just went back and re-read everything, and boy, it’s kind of a mess, and I apologize profusely. I’m going to make sure I do an outline from the start, and some world building, before I dive in like I did here. So if there are any discrepancies, or things that make no sense. I’m so sorry.   
> I’m really learning as I go.
> 
> This has been the worst year I’ve ever had, but the SanSan community on here kept me sane through it all. I’m sure everyone whose lived through 2020 understands, it’s been so rough. I decided to try and write, because I’m always full of ideas, and it gave me a small bit of purpose through this. So thank you so much for the kudos and comments, even though I know it’s a bit of a mess, it was written in spurts of inspiration throughout the year, and last week I finally felt brave enough to post, and I seriously bawled when I saw that people enjoyed it. So thank you thank you thank you. 
> 
> I’m going to go clean up some of the messy typos and grammar in the previous chapters now... and try to take my time and revise the stuff I’ve written before posting from now on. 
> 
> So much love. Glamgrowl.

Sansa.

Heading to the bathroom, which is near the back door, she checks to see if Sandor is watching, before slipping outside and heads to her car, and the WD40 can.

She pulls out her pack of cigarettes and lowers her seat down, so no one can spot her. 

Why can’t I just be fun? She thinks to herself as she takes a long drag on her Cigarette. Clegane is being nice tonight. The other teachers aren’t here. Barely anyone is here, yet I feel so paranoid, that someone will catch me letting loose. I make everything awkward in a stress free situation. 

She makes a list in her head of reasons why She can’t live a little. First If anyone who knows Me under a professional setting see’s me drunk, they would demand I be fired. 

Okay... so that’s a huge exaggeration, but they’d talk, that’s for sure. 

She knows what it feels like to hear those whispers, and then silence when you walk in a room. Eyes staring at her like she’s a freak. She dealt with that when some highschool mean girls decided to start a rumor that She had an STD. At the time Sansa was a virgin, she didn’t even have a boyfriend until college, but all her peers would call her fire crotch, and she’d run away and cry in the bathroom stall alone. She hated that feeling, and she did everything she could to never look like a “slut” again... but getting drunk with Sandor Clegane might just bring that sexy vibe to the surface. Would he be okay with that? She remembers videos from college, and how unabashedly flirty she would get. She used to blame herself and that behavior for the Joffery disaster, but not anymore. 

She lights another cigarette and thinks about what She didn’t have back then, and what she has tonight. A big bulky man, who will protect her if someone gross comes near. 

“ He will keep an eye on you.” She whispers under her breath. His whole mission in life is protecting kids who are treated poorly, he’s not going to let someone slip you something and hurt you again. He’d likely punch someone with his big huge hands...mmmm. His hands... shit, pull yourself together, Sansa. 

She shakes her head so she gets the thought of Sandor Cleganes huge fucking hands, and all the things they could do to her out of her head.

Pulls down the mirror and looks at herself.

“You deserve to have fun. You are safe with Sandor. Fuck everyone else. You deserve to have fun, openly, for once in your god damn life, with someone that’s not part of your family!” 

I better text Shireen to let her know I will need a ride.

Sansa: You’re still able to pick me up sweet Sister in law?

Shireen: Of course, when should I head that way?

Sansa: ummmmmm... 9:30? Is that too early?

Shireen: Arya said “Not for you!” But I don’t think it’s lame, do what makes you comfortable. 

Sansa: ok. 10? Thanks Sis. Drive safe

She grabs her cigarettes to put them in her stash can, and makes the swift decision to throw them into her hand bag. “Fuck it. Right?” She says as She pops in a mint and sprays herself with Chanel. To head back in.

Head held high She walks through the back door, and sits next to Sandor. 

“You okay Little Bird? You fluttered off for awhile.” He says.

“I’m great!” She says as the bartender heads back her way, she smiles “ A Whiskey Ginger-Ale, and 2 Shots of tequila please. Do you want anything Clegane?” 

With a shell shocked look he says “I’ll have the same.”

He turns to her “So we’re drinking tonight?”

“Yeah, I think I’m gonna take your advice and pull that stick out of my ass.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor’s POV.

While the pretty Little Bird was off crying in the bathroom, He texted Ray for advice, and told him the situation, and asked how to make things a little less awkward. Ray’s advice was to just go with her flow.

So Sandor pulled out a $10  
and waited for Sansa to come back, with a plan to have her pick out the next round of jukebox music. 

So when she came in and ordered tequila, with a confidence he had never seen her wear. He took Ray’s advice and matched her. 

Ray wouldn’t approve of the binge drinking. He’d seen Sandor at his worse, but he’d been past that a very long time, and he wasn’t an alcoholic, even in the days after the military. He just used it to numb, and now he only used alcohol to have fun socially. 

So tonight he’d let Sansa take the lead, see where it takes him. He’d need an Uber if she ordered more tequila’s but that would be okay.

Remembering the $10 he took out, he handed it over to Sansa “Go pick some music Little Bird.”

“Really?” She eyed him suspiciously. “You don’t mind?”

“Well we both hate 80’s Pop, so as long as you don’t pick country, I can live with whatever you pick.” He smiled

“Okay!” She hopped up from her seat and almost skipped to the jukebox.

5 minutes later, and still a silent bar, he figured she was having trouble deciding what to pick.

He eye’d her from across the room. She had one hand on the jukebox pressing the touch screen and the other gripping her mixed drink, and taking occasional sips. Her hair was cascading down her back in pretty waves. 

She was a beautiful woman, there was no doubt about it, but the suits she wore to work must be a size too big, because this yellow dress fits. It doesn’t hug, it still leaves plenty to the imagination, and he is imagining. Long legs attached to wide hips, soft pink nipples on teardrop shaped tits, that are on the edge of being more than a handful...Fuck! he was half hard imagining.

He needed to pull it together. She’s his boss, out of his fucking league, and he should probably get some food and sober up a bit before he says something stupid. 

He orders a burger and another order of onion rings, then goes to check on what’s taking so long, maybe the touchscreen is frozen or something. 

He walksup behind her, and cleared his throat.

She jumps and seems shocked. Frantically pressing the back button embarrassed it seems by what she was searching for. “You scared me!” 

“Do you need help?” He asks while eyeing what’s on the screen “Wait. Why were you searching for Job for a Cowboy, Little Bird? Do you know what that is? I don’t think you’d like it.” He said, reaching across to try and help her. 

She smacks his hand away and turns around and looks at him with that sexy rage he lives for

“Actually. I thought it’d be funny...because you told me NOT to pick country music...and their name has the word Cowboy in it.” 

She turns back around and presses a button, “and oh.. look. My favorite one of their songs.” 

She presses play on Bearing the Serpents Lamb. Turns back and say’s “I’m good, you can go sit down.”

“Wait. What the fuck? How do you know this song Sansa?” He asks with brows scrunched in confusion

“I’ve seen them play numerous times, Mister Clegane, and if I’m not mistaken you handed me 10 dollars and told me to pick some music, and I never asked for your help, nor commentary, and certainly not your assumptions about what I know, and don’t know, so here, go be a good boy, and get me another drink” She hands him $5 and waves him off “Thank you.” 

What the fuck is happening? Sansa Stark is playing actual death metal and drinking tequila.

Did Sansa just call me a good boy? Did I like it? Will she say it again if I bring her another drink? God I hope so.

Fuck.

In a daze as the song plays and he orders more drinks for them. He finishes his drink but spits it out in surprise as the familiar opening of the Gwar tune Sick of you, starts playing.

He looks over at Sansa who must have turned around to see his reaction, and she is laughing at what he guesses is a slack jawed stare, he likely looks like some surprised cartoon character in that very moment. Spitting his drink out like he’s a teenager or something. 

She’s laughing in a wicked way, and winks at him from across the room. She turns back around to finish making her selections.

He grabs the drinks and is about to take hers to her, when She heads back his way. 

“Do you like this song Sandor?” She says in an overly cocky, cute, way while she bats her eyelashes at him and sits down. 

“I fucking love Gwar. Do you like this song Little Bird?”

“Of course I do, it’s a classic.” She states 

Wow. Just Wow. He’s so fucking speechless. What a turn of events this evening has been. Uptight Sansa, turns into a metal head, and it only took a couple of drinks. He wasn’t expecting this, this is far out of his depths of his imagination. She seems flirty too. 

Is Sansa Stark kind of flirting with Me? She called me a good boy. She even said Ass tonight. She’s singing along to Gwar, and I’ve never been so turned on and intimidated in my life.

I should be making conversation but I don’t know what to say...I don’t want to piss her off again like I did about the Job for a Cowboy thing. I love to piss her off though...fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Go with the flow you big dumb idiot. Fuck.

“Have you seen Gwar live Sandor?” She asks while sipping on her whiskey drink. 

“Of course I have! I try and go everytime they are near.”

“Me too. I’m friends with some of the crew and band Members, I love watching them set up. So much work goes into making their shows run smoothly. It’s so much fun to watch the process, and they are the only band I usually watch from the front, rather than side stage. Ya know... it’s not a proper Gwar show if you’re not covered in “blood””

“That is so fucking cool.” He say’s dumbfounded, impressed, surprised and intimidated. “Little Bird, you’re an intriguing woman, I had no idea you’d even know who Gwar is.” 

“You shouldn’t make assumptions about people Mister Clegane. You know what they say right?” She pokes him in the chest “Never assume, because it makes an Ass out of U and Me.” 

Her poke has turned into a pat, and she is patting him on the chest. She’s looking him in the eye. She’s grinning a devilish smile. “And you don’t want to be an asshole now do you Sandor? Right?”

She’s grinning devilishly and grasping His Arms now. Really gripping it, copping a feel. He flexes subconsciously to give her what she wants.  
“Assholes must be punished, so they learn to behave.Riiiiight?” 

She’s like a predator, and he’s the prey, but he’s ready and willing to be sacrificed to this glorious little Bird, that has actually grown claws and turned into a falcon or something beautiful and fierce. She’s leaning in and whispering in his ear. 

“Or do you act so rude so you will be punished? Because you yearn to be a good boy? Hmmm”  
Her breath so hot and sticky. Goosebumps and chills. She leans away and looks him in the eyes.

He can’t breath, he can’t move. She had him locked under some sort of magic, bewitching power. 

No one has ever spoken to him this way. Women flirt with him, but it’s not usually so fucking captivating. 

He’s never in his life wanted anything more than being punished right now, and taught to be a good boy by Sansa Fucking Stark.

Fuck what should he say? What should he do. He’s about to say “You wanna get out of here and I’ll do whatever you want, just keep talking like this and looking at me like this...” When the door to the bar bursts open and a group walks in.

“Oh god, you all came?” She say’ a with a dramatic sign as the group walks over. He recognizes her brother and gives him a nod.

The tiny loud woman at the front of the group is giving him the evil eye. She seems pretty half tossed already “Sandor, this is my Sister Arya.” 

“You’re a big motherfucker!” She says with her eyebrow cocked. “Let’s leg wrestle.” 

“What?” He says confused by fucking everything about this night

“Leg wrestling, I could take you, easy.” Arya says 

“Stop it Arya. I am so sorry Sandor, she’s got Napoleon complex and it worsens with alcohol... is it really 10 already?”

“No, we just thought it’d be fun to come hang out, I’ve never seen my Sister drunk at a bar.” Rickon says. “Sandor, we never officially met, but I’ve heard great things about you, and what you do for the kids, this is my wife Shireen, and that one is Gendry.” 

Arya runs off to the bathroom, while the rest of the group finds an empty table. Sansa sits next to Him, and pulls her chair even closer. 

Gendry walks up with a round of Jager bombs and passes them out. “Sorry about my Wife Man, but she’s going to be relentless until you leg wrestle her, fair warning” 

“She’s like a chihuahua, I’d likely break her leg off if we were to do that..” he laughs.

Sansa makes a face at him “Don’t let her hear you call her that. I assure you the term dynamite comes in small packages applies to Arya Stark. She’s an absolute badass, she might be able to take you.” 

“There is no fucking way.” He scoffs

Sansa leans in and whispers into his ear “There you go making assumptions again Clegane...You really need a lesson in manners.” 

Fuck. Yes. Let’s. Go. Now. Please. Fuuuuck.

“Okay fine, I’ll do it. On one condition.” He says 

“Yeah what’s that?” Arya says who came back from the bathroom. 

“Loser has to sing a karaoke song” Sandor says 

“Ha! Bet!” Arya laughs “Do you need time for a vocal warm up?”

“Nah. Cmon Tiny. Let’s go.” Sandor says getting on the floor in the position

They get on the floor in position. Legs pointed up against each other. Countdown 3...2....1.... And they go gripping their legs at each other, the goal is to flip the other persons body over. Which Sandor does to Arya almost immediately. 

“Fair game!” She laughs “You really are massive, but I had to try!”

“It was fun, but I won, so go pick a song.” He points to the DJ

“Sansa will you do the one with me?” Arya asks in a pleading voice. 

“Really?” Sansa says nervously looking around.

“Yes. No ones here. We’re basically at home where we usually do it. It’s just your family, minus Jon and Bran, and your giant friend Sandor...cmon”Arya pleads... she’s got the puppy dog eye’s down. Little ankle biter! Ha!

“Okay, Fuck it right?” Sansa says finishing her whiskey, “I’m gonna need more of these.” 

“Fuck Yes sis! Let’s do this!” Arya says as she skips to the DJ. 

“I’m sorry about my Family Sandor.” She says quietly

“It’s okay little bird, I like them.” He says

“Well yeah they are cool, but I was enjoying hanging out with just you. I want you to know that”She says quietly “I know it could look like I called them and said “come save me” but it’s not that. I called them way earlier and arranged a ride so I could drink a bourbon, and now look at me. I’m gonna do karaoke... oh I love this song, it’s the last song I picked on the jukebox.”

Pantera’s domination starts playing. Sansa starts singing along, the whole table does. 

“Agony is the price that you'll pay in the end. Domination consumes you, then calls you a friend. It's a twisted fall”

Sandor Clegane is a goner. He fucking died right then and there. 

He’s never been so turned on in his life... he can’t stop watching,

She knows all the words.. she plays air guitar... she’s singing Pantera... and he is hooked. 

Whatever version of Sansa Stark this is, it’s all consuming. She’s a force, and he is being pulled into her like a black hole. Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I worked on this all day. I’m super nervous to post it, and I hope it doesn’t give you whiplash... ahhhh.


End file.
